Oil Spill
by nefertani
Summary: Set last July  An emergency world meeting is called to discuss the recent issue of the Gulf of Mexico oil spill, and there are some special guests among the nations.  R&R!


AGGGHH! IT BIT ME! A RABID PLOT BUNNY BIT ME! Ehehe...so yeah. I'm on vacation in Florida at the moment (and to all of you with dirty minds, shaddap), and randomly came up with this.

I don't own Hetalia, only my OCs (the ocean-tans ^_^).

* * *

July 2008

World Conference

Greece hurried (well, for him; to others it would have seemed like a moderate to slow jog) down the hallway to the room where this year's World Conference was being held. He had slept in _again_; he really needed to get his alarm clock fixed. He snuck in discreetly and slid quietly into his seat next to Spain's. "Sorry...alarm broke...again. What...have I missed...so far?" he asked, yawning.

Spain leaned in. "Oh, just the usual arguments. No attempted murders so far, though."

"I guess...that's a good...start." He blinked drowsily at the assembled nations. There were France and England, arguing and glaring at each other with almost tangible hatred. Russia was hiding behind his chair from Belarus, Romano was repeatedly hitting Italy over the head with his pen, America was talking animatedly to Japan, who looked like he wanted nothing more than to disappear, and Austria was chitchatting with- now who was that? Greece didn't recognize her from anywhere. She had on an unusual, yet elegant green dress, serious grey eyes and- what the, _blue_ hair?

"Hey...Spain...who's that?"

Spain turned away from staring at Romano and followed Greece's gaze. "Oh, that's Pacific. The ocean, not the adjective, though she looks like both." He chuckled.

"I didn't know...there were...personifications of...the oceans, too..."

"Yup, all major oceans and seas showed up today. That's Atlantic, over there," he said, pointing to a rather wild-looking girl with hair in two different shades of blue, a unique top that looked as if it was woven from seaweed, and an almost scandalously short blue skirt. "That's the Dead Sea, and next to her is Mediterranean. I think you may know her." Spain indicated a slightly nervous-looking girl with floating- yes, _floating_- grey-ish hair talking (or at least trying to, it seemed like she couldn't get a word in edgewise) to an excited teenager with exceedingly vivid light blue hair and a simple green gown. Yes, Greece suddenly remembered, he did vaguely recall seeing the other from somewhere. "And over there, the one talking to the Baltics? That's Indian Ocean. Looks like she and Estonia are hitting it off pretty good." Indian Ocean was wearing a yellow turtleneck and glasses, and carried a laptop under one arm. "And her, over there..." Spain shuddered slightly. "That's Arctic Ocean." She seemed to be hunched up in the corner in a parka and scarf, glaring at everyone with one ice-blue eye open.

"Why...are they all here...at this meeting? I've never...seen most of them...before."

Spain laughed awkwardly. "You haven't heard the news? Ah, it's because of-"

"Alright, everybody stop talking!" The room stilled. Germany stood up and cleared his throat. "Thank you. Now, the reason we called this meeting a few months before schedule is because America and England wish to...discuss..." he glanced at the two nations, who were each giving each other the evil eye- "...a certain event that has taken place. We have also assembled the various oceans to discuss this matter, but as our 'guest of honor,' as it were, is still absent, we should probably begin now."

"Hey, who're you to decide that?" called out Atlantic. Murmurs swept the room as she glared murderously at Germany. "We can't start without her! She's the whole reason we're meeting!"

"Yeah, I spoke to her a few minutes ago," put in Indian Ocean, waving her iPhone. "She's on her way, she just had some car trouble. She should be here any-"

There was a knock at the door. Lithuania immediately leapt up to open it. In walked a person who seemed to be dripping with a strange black substance. She (Greece assumed that she was a girl from her build) wore medium length hair pulled back in a low ponytail, a brown dress, and a tired expression. All were completely covered in black goop. "Sorry I'm late." A bubble of the disgusting-looking black stuff popped at her lips as she spoke. She trudged to a vacant seat next to Denmark, who slowly edged away. She left little puddles of goo with each step she took.

"...and that," Spain whispered, "is Gulf of Mexico."

"What...happened...to her?" Greece asked quietly.

"The oil spill. That's why we're here. America and England are fighting over whose fault it is."

"Alright, now that she's here, can we start already?" Atlantic tapped her foot impatiently.

"Ah, yes. Right." Germany coughed. "So, why don't we hear America speak first."

"Yeah, because the hero always gets to talk first." He shot a **Look** at England, who narrowed his eyes. "So, like I've been saying, this is all England's fault. It was his company, after all. I mean, _British_ Petroleum? C'mon, people, you can't get more obvious than that."

"But the spill happened on your turf, you idiotic wanker!" burst out England. "Can't you just accept that and take responsibility for it? Besides-"

"Nuh-uh, it's still your fault. I-"

"Oh, stop arguing, aru. Can't you just work together and-"

Everyone started talking at once.

"I think it would be helpful if-"

"-and it's not like you contribute very much, anyway-"

"-about him, isn't it? Listen, when will you realize-"

"-perfectly normal, _thank_ you very much-"

"Alright, everybody shut up! If we could please hear England speak, then maybe we can get this all sorted out before we get this building blown up. Again."

England cleared his throat and set his cup of tea down. "Thank you, Germany. As I was saying, I think that America should be held responsible, as Gulf of Mexico is technically under his protection."

"Yeah, but it was your-"

"Maybe I don't give a-"

The babble broke out again.

"-sonata I was composing-"

"-hate to break it to you, Austria, but nobody really give a flying-"

"-even a country anymore, Prussia, so go away before I-"

"-need that money back, so you'll-"

"-and furthermore, you can all go-"

"-throws a frying pan, anyway? That hurt, you know-"

Germany sighed and surveyed the chaos. Catching Switzerland's eye, he flicked his hand towards the roof. Switzerland nodded, pulled a small gun out of his coat, and fired several rounds into the ceiling. The room instantly fell dead silent.

"It's clear that this is going nowhere," Germany began. "So why don't we-"

"How about we just ask Gulf of Mexico's opinion?" interrupted Dead Sea. "She's the one you're arguing about. Well, most of you," she amended.

"Yeah, what do you think about this, Gulf?" called out Mediterranean.

Gulf of Mexico looked startled for a second, then coughed, sending little globs of oil flying into her elbow. "Um, I really don't care whose fault it is. I just want to be able to care for birds and fish and everything without killing them, and be able to walk normally without dripping everywhere, and to have people stop calling me The Sludge Monster from the Black Lagoon. It has happened, you know," she insisted, blinking dolefully at some nations that had disbelieving half-grins on their faces. "Why can't all of you stop arguing, and fix what needs fixing without making anything worse?"

"Because that would be too hard!"

"WHO SAID THAT?"

"It was probably Prussia!" shouted Hungary, raising her frying pan threateningly.

"You can't prove that-"

Switzerland fired off a preemptive shot, causing the ceiling to quake slightly.

"Whoever said that was kind of right, you know," whispered Atlantic, leaning over to Pacific.

Pacific murmured back, "Well, maybe for them. I actually have thought of several ways to solve all of their silly debates. The dispute between America and Iran, for example, could easily be solved by-"

"I agree, Gulf of Mexico- or can I call you Gulf for short?- but it's gonna cost a lot of money," said America. "So if I could just borrow some..." He looked around pleadingly.

"NO." The chorus of voices echoed around the room.

America pouted.

England muttered something derogatory under his breath.

France took the opportunity to grope Spain's butt.

Romano chucked a tomato at him.

Switzerland reloaded his gun.

Canada wondered if anyone had noticed him yet.

Japan facepalmed.

And Greece fell asleep.

* * *

Yup.


End file.
